Chapter 162: Firearm Practice
“‘Ancient book,’” Nightingale said. “Four hundred and fifty years old.” She had poured herself tea and was sitting on the corner of his desk, which was where she sat when she wanted to continue a conversation he hadn’t invited her into. “You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“I think it’s one of the books in your head.” She tilted her cup. “And I think everything in it will end up taught to the citizens eventually, the same as everything else.”
“It was a white lie,” Roland said. “A useful one. A prince who’s spent his life at court shouldn’t know chemistry from first principles — there’s no explanation for it that doesn’t raise more questions. But give a man a book he can hold in his hands, and he’ll trust the book. People trust themselves more than they trust other people.”
Nightingale set her cup down and leaned toward him until she was close enough that he could see the particular careful expression she wore when she was about to do something precise.
“Then who taught you?” she said.
He opened his mouth.
Her finger touched his lips. “If you’d rather not answer, don’t. I don’t want a lie from you.”
He blinked.
She withdrew her hand, sat back, and looked out the window as if the question had never been asked.
He cleared his throat. “We have five days before the duel. Carter needs to be comfortable with the weapon.”
“You were complaining this morning that the ammunition still had a problem.”
“It does. But the problem only affects rate of fire, not the ability to shoot at all. For the duel — one location, ten rounds, no need to reload in the field — we can work around it.” He stood and found his coat. “He needs the hours.”
West of the city wall, in the cleared space beyond the barracks that served as the explosives testing ground, Carter had been waiting with the posture of a man who had been told something he didn’t entirely believe.
“A witch,” he said.
“A witch whose ability directly enhances her body,” Roland said. “Strength and speed both. More than anything you’ve encountered — more than the pill-enhanced prisoner, considerably.” He paused to let that settle. “She’ll be using a greatsword. She’s a melee fighter. And a God’s Stone of Retaliation won’t affect her.”
Carter glanced at Nightingale. Something in his face said: this is what you look like when you can’t be stopped.
“Theoretically speaking,” Roland continued, “without the weapon, your odds are zero.”
He held out the revolver.
Carter took it in both hands with the instinctive caution of a soldier accepting an unfamiliar weapon, testing the weight, reading the shape of it. The metal was smooth — almost everything metal, the trigger and barrel and cylinder all flowing into each other in lines that the old flintlocks had never managed. The wood grip sat correctly in the hand. Carter turned it over once, twice.
“It’s beautiful,” he said.
“It’s called a revolver.” Roland drew the second one and demonstrated — the cylinder swinging out to the left, the five chambers visible, the cartridges seated cleanly. “Powder and ball are integrated in the casing. Load the cylinder, close it, pull the trigger. Five shots before you need to reload.”
He handed Carter a cartridge to examine. Brass-colored shell, the body a perfect cylinder, the nose slightly tapered, no visible seam. The knight turned it between his fingers and Roland could see the question forming: how does anyone make something this precise?
“The ignition travels through this opening in the base,” Roland said. “Until the ammunition is finished, you need to keep the muzzle pointed downward — don’t let the powder sift out of the hole. After each shot, clean the chamber.” He demonstrated the posture: both hands, body weight slightly forward, muzzle aligned with the target at ten meters. “Ready?”
Carter settled into the stance. Fired.
The sound was considerable. The recoil threw his arms upward; he stepped back half a pace. When the smoke cleared, the target was intact.
He fired the remaining four rounds. The target remained intact.
“Go on,” Roland said, to the look Carter was giving him.
“I missed completely. All five.”
“The barrel is shorter than a rifle. Accuracy at distance suffers. And the cartridge diameter is close to twelve millimeters — the recoil is significantly higher than you’re used to.” Roland took the revolver back and demonstrated the muzzle alignment again, slower. “You’re pulling left on the trigger. Keep the sight picture through the shot, don’t anticipate it.” He handed it back. “Try again. If you can put all five into the target before the duel, you have a chance.”
Carter collected the spent casings — these can be reloaded — and began to reload the cylinder.
He would get there, Roland thought. Carter was the kind of man who practiced until the thing was done. What Roland needed was for the primer problem to be solved before the week ended, so that the question of aim was the only remaining variable.
He watched his knight begin again, and let the sound of the shots follow him as he turned back toward the laboratory.
Chapter 162 Firearm Practice
“Liar.” When Roland had finished his appointment with the alchemist, he returned to his office. Nightingale asked, “What kind of four-hundred and fifty year-old ancient ‘Elementary Chemistry’ book are you talking about? Isn’t it just one of the books that contain some of your memories? Sooner or later, everything in it will be taught to the citizens anyway, right?”
“It was only a white lie.” During Margaret’s visit, she had presented a package of black tea to Roland. He could could now finally do away with drinking water or ale every day.
“How could a prince who has lived his whole life in the palace know alchemy so well while having only had access to the teachings of the King’s Alchemist? But, if I were to rather give him a book so that he could study it himself, it would be more likely that he would accept the knowledge compared to if I were the one who was teaching him. After all, the one thing that humans trust the most will always be themselves.”
“Oh?” Nightingale became curious, she leaned her upper body closer to Roland and stopped herself directly in front of his face, “Then who was the one who taught you?”
“Uhh…” Roland opened his mouth, but Nightingale laid her finger on it, “If you do not want to give me an answer, just don’t say anything. I don’t want to hear a lie come from you.”
When Roland blinked with his eyes, Nightingale had taken back her hand.
“We have to make use of the fact that the duel is still five days away,” Roland took this opportunity to change the subject, “we have to get Carter and allow him to get familiar with the new weapon.”
“But a short while ago, didn’t you complain that the ammunition problem still wasn’t resolved yet?”
“The problem only affects the actual use of colloxylin. If we only want to take care of the competition, it should still be possible for us to fire the gun. After all, during the duel we won’t have to consider the transportation or the reloading, since ten rounds of ammunition should be enough to draw a result,” Roland explained.
Of course, the lack of celloidin would lead to a decrease in the rate of fire, which could also play an important part in the duel, but in the end it would all end up in the hands of Carter and his God like face.
To the west of the City Wall.
After accepting his new assignment given to him by Roland, Carter arrived at the explosives testing area once more.
“I’m supposed to be fighting against a witch?” Carter had been startled when he heard about the duel. “Can I wear a God’s Stone of Retaliation?”
“Certainly,” Roland smiled. “But unfortunately, you will be facing off against a unique type of witch who won’t be affected by it, her method of fighting is also similar to that of a knight- she will even be using a greatsword.”
“You mean to tell me, she’s a witch that is a master at melee fighting?” Carter glanced at Nightingale who was standing beside Roland.
“More or less. But because her ability is of the self-strengthening type, regardless of whether it is her strength or her speed, they will all be far beyond that of an ordinary human.” Roland continued.
“You have to be mentally prepared. Her control over her body and her power is several times greater than that of that death-row criminal after he took those pills.”
“Several times greater… Your Royal Highness, do you know what this means?” Carter was shocked.
“I will most probably be unable to keep up with her reaction speed, even if I’m carefully observing her movements. If she is as powerful as you say she is, I am afraid I won’t be able to beat her.”
“Theoretically speaking, your chance of winning is actually zero,” the Prince confirmed, but he then handed him a strange firearm, “but by using this weapon, your chances of winning should increase dramatically.”
“This is… the new gun?” Carter grabbed the weapon with both hands. Because the trigger and the barrel parts were very similar to that of a flintlock, the knight was also able to determine that it should belong to the same type of weapon. Even though its size wasn’t as big as the former, after he held it in his hand it was still heavier than the former flintlock. Particularly noteworthy to him was that, with the exception of the handle, which was made out of wood, all the rest of the weapon was made out of metal. With its smooth lines and its sharp corners, as well as its light white metallic luster, the weapon was a thing of unspeakable beauty.
It was the first time he saw such a weapon, and he immediately fell in love with it.
“It is called a revolver,” Roland pulled out another weapon with the same shape, and let the beehive-like-wheel pop out to its left, “Now let me instruct you on how to use it.”
Carter soon found out that its operation was simpler than that of the flintlock gun. The projectile and gunpowder had already been integrated into one unit, and as long as the cylinder was loaded it would be ready to fire. There were five holes in the cylinder, which meant that each cylinder could be filled with up to five rounds of ammunition. This was probably also the reason why it was classed as a revolver.
There was a hole where the revolver’s hammer met the cylinder, if the hammer hit the hole, a spark would be created and a loud friction sound would then be heard. Maybe there is flint hidden inside it, he thought. But this
bullet’s design really is much too incredible, this light-yellow shell is made out of a thin copper plate, and the body appears to be perfectly round but also totally smooth at the same time. I can’t even see any cracks or gaps in the outer shell. The bullet’s front is slender while its rear is as thick as my index finger. It fits very accurately into the holes in the cylinder. How were they able to produce this?
“The ammunition still isn’t finished yet, so you have to always pay attention to the opening at the bottom of the bullet,” Roland performed a shooting motion, “like me, you have to always keep pointing the muzzle downwards. Don’t let the powder leak out from the opening. After each shot, you have to clean up the revolver’s bullet nest, or else the scattered gunpowder will start to accumulate inside the hole.”
“Unfinished goods?”
“Yeah,” the Prince shrugged, “There is an important part that still needs to be resolved, but if everything goes well, we can finish it before the start of the duel. The hole at the bottom will then be sealed so that you will no longer need to worry about losing gunpowder.”
When the bottom becomes sealed, how will be the gunpowder inside the bullet be ignited? Carter thought this, but soon decided not to think any further about this seemingly impossible problem. After all, he was not as knowledgeable as His Royal Highness, who knew so much.
That’s right, he is erudite and multi-talented. At present, Carter already admired the 4th Prince and prostrated himself in admiration. No matter if it were a master alchemist or an astrologer who held a high position at court, none of them had invented as many strange things in addition, all of Roland’s products had a great value. His inventions were unlike Snow powder, which was the kind of invention that could only be used as a toy for the nobility.
The steam engine invented by His Royal Highness was currently being used for mining and pumping operations, and his guns and cannons helped repel the demonic beast and also the Duke’s coalition. Now, Carter was already convinced that as long as he had enough time, the throne of the Kingdom of
Graycastle would definitely end up in the hands of Roland Wimbledon – the great Lord of Border Town.
The distance to the target was ten meters, but apart from the issue with the distance, there was also the problem that the human- mark was only the size of one’s hand. Carter took on a shooting stance in accordance with the teachings of His Highness. He then held the gun in both hands, leaned his body slightly forwards, aligned the barrel in line with the center of the target, and then pulled the trigger.
Sparks and gas were ejected from both sides of the wheel, and a loud noise hurt his ears. It felt like someone had shoved him backward, and his arms were also unconsciously pushed upwards. When the smoke finally cleared, the target still seemed to be intact.
“Go on,” said Roland.
Carter took a deep breath, and then fired the remaining four bullets. However, the result was still the same, no bullet had hit the target.
“This…” Carter was shaken, but when he looked to His Royal Highness, he discovered that the latter didn’t seem to care.
“With its shorter barrel, the pistol’s accuracy and range aren’t as good as the rifle’s, so it’s entirely reasonable for you to miss. Plus, the bullet’s diameter is close to twelve millimeters. With the diameter to be nearly twelve millimeters, the recoil also has to be much larger than from the flintlock.” The Prince began to explain, but Carter couldn’t understand what he wanted to say to him. “All in all, you only have to follow my instructions and keep on practice a lot. If one day, before the duel, you are able to hit the target with all the five bullets, you will really a chance to win. Oh, and that’s right… don’t forget to collect the bullet casings, they can be reloaded and used more than once.”